


Mills and Boon

by snapegirl



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F, Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 14:33:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7980133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snapegirl/pseuds/snapegirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would happen if Serena is brave enough?</p><p>An alternative to the office scene in s18e48 Brave New World.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mills and Boon

**Author's Note:**

> Idea is provided by refreshingly-original

Desk: Clean

 

Glasses: Two and aligned

 

Chair: … Better move it closer

_Perfect._

The door opened. Bernie.

 

“Drinking in the hospital?” Bernie leant against the door and smirked. “You are a rebel.”

 

“Takes one to know one.” She fired back easily. It was a relief in knowing that once she had embraced what she wanted, the awkwardness vanished like steam from a nice hot cup of coffee.

 

“My kind of girl.” Her heart did a double somersault when Bernie said that, the significance not lost on her.

 

She laughed nervously. “If you want to tie me in knots - ” _it is not working, I know what I want._

Bernie cut in before she could finish it. “Serena, Serena, that is the last thing I want.”

 

She wanted to reply but instead handed Bernie the glass of Shiraz. She needed a glass of her own in order to finish what she started.

 

“I…I kissed you because I wanted to, and beyond that, I wasn’t thinking.” Bernie was looking alternatively at her computer screen and the glass of wine. Unease filled her as she realised Bernie was not going to look at her.

 

Bernie swallowed and took a deep breath, her eyes couldn’t help but stray to Bernie’s throat and slid down to the heaving of the chest, she quickly hid her grin.

 

“I can see how uncomfortable the whole thing is making you, so…”

 

Her grin froze as she glanced back up to Bernie’s face. _This is not happening._

“…I think we should toast our undeniable sexual chemistry and say no more about it.” _This is happening._

 

“Y-you want to forget it ever happened.” She hastily took a sip of the wine and pretended her hand on her trousers was not trembling slightly.

 

“It is the right choice. Me - messy  divorce, you - dyed-in-the-wool heterosexual, not exactly - ” Bernie attempted to explain in her own hesitant way but the sentence was never finished for a hand suddenly shot out and covered her mouth, effectively muffling any further words Bernie intended to say.

 

“Serena!” Bernie rocked backwards, catching hold of her hand and bringing away from herself . “What on earth…!”

 

“Shit!” Just another thing to add to the list of embarrassing thing she had done in one day. She made to tug back her hand but Bernie held fast to her hand. “I - I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to -”

 

The warmth of Bernie’s palm against the back of her hand was intoxicating and the longer she was in her grasp, the weaker her struggle became. Eventually, it stopped.

 

“Tell me.” Bernie’s voice was soft but inquisitive.

 

“I needed you to stop,” she said when she finally able to take her eyes off Bernie’s. “You are throwing away this based on a conclusion that is simply not true.”

 

“You are not … uncomfortable?” Bernie frowned and lowered their clasped hands but didn’t let go.

 

“Yes, I arranged wine for just the two of us in this office rather than a drink at Albies for Sacha’s birthday party, because I am _uncomfortable._ ” She rolled her eyes in exasperation.

 

“Oh, _oh._ ” The frown disappeared. In fact, the eyebrows had risen into the fringe abruptly.

 

She watched those exquisite lips worked itself, as if Bernie was digesting the words physically. She pushed her chair slightly forward.

 

“You were so relieved when I promised - the aneurysm repair - I - ” It was Bernie’s turn to lose command of the English language.

 

“You promised not to mix work with this.” She squeezed the hand lightly. “Edward left a huge crater in my career and the rumour didn’t stop for ages, I am scared of that happening again.” Her chair moved surreptitiously another inch closer, her knees brushed against the edge of Bernie’s chair.

 

“You and Angus Ferrell.”

 

She rocked back slightly. _What is it with this woman and taking a hint?_

“He is not exactly hospital staff and it lasted like a month. Wait. How did you know?”

 

Bernie’s eyes roamed the ceiling and answered hesitantly. “I might have…asked around.”

 

“Dr Copeland.” She drew the conclusion easily.

 

“Yes.” Bernie ducked her head, blushing slightly.

 

“I want this, this will be my first so maybe taking it slow but I definitely want this. Any more question?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. Bernie shook her head quizzically. “If no, I am going to kiss you now.”

 

Bernie suddenly grew rock still but her eyes had nothing in them but an eager sparkle. She leant forward again and pressed their lips together.

 

It was just as soft and supple as she remembered but this time, the taste of shiraz invaded her senses.

 

The kiss didn’t last long. Mainly because her glass of wine had developed their own mind and decided to end up on Bernie’s crisp white shirt as well.

 

“Oh my god,” she said, aghast. Dumping her glass on the desk and scrambling to get the shirt off as soon as possible, her entire focus was on listing out mentally varies way on how to get the stains out until Bernie’s hands on hers to halt their action on the buttons.

 

“I thought you want to take it slow.” Bernie sounded highly amused.

 

“I am so sorry.” She closed her eyes in mortification. “I will get this cleaned.”

 

“It is okay, I get to kiss you again. That is more than enough.” Her eyes opened to stare straight into Bernie’s. There were so many emotions in them: mirth, adoration and … _love._

“ _‘The Sexual Awakening of Serena Campbell with a side dish of Red Wine Spillage’,”_ she said with a chuckle _. “_ Not exactly Mills and Boon is it?”

 

“But this is our story.” Bernie mirrored her grin.

 

“Yes.” It felt gratifying to say that single word. “And it would be great in a cookbook as well.”

 

Bernie groaned and said in a deadpan. “Seriously? That must be delicious.”

 

She blushed when the way that her words can be taken. Her eyes widen when Bernie reached for the buttons again. “Uh…?”

 

“I have a spare shirt in a drawer,” Bernie explained. “You can try  _not_  to look.”

 

She swallowed hard but still rooted in her chair when Bernie turned around and dropped her shirt to reveal a black tank top.

_Yes, that definitely belonges in a cookbook._

**Author's Note:**

> As of right now, I still have faith in BBC but I just wanted to see what could have happened.
> 
> (Also red wine and white shirt will never be a good combination, hence the entire fic XD)


End file.
